Divine Intervention (Short Story, Suspense)

So happy to report I made it all the way to the third challenge of NYCMidnight's 2019 Flash Fiction Challenge. I submitted the following story...warts and all...and received an honorable mention!

All stories were limited to a maximum of 1,000 words. The genre/prompts I had to incorporate into the story for this two-day competition were: Suspense / A fire escape / A mattress

Divine Intervention

Synopsis: On a dig, deep in the jungle, archeologist Jules Lihueghí discovers her inner goddess.

 Divine Intervention

The first thing I’m aware of is a cacophony of birds. The harsh morning concert jolts me out of a nightmare—massive vines, snaking down from the trees, wrapping themselves around me. I rub my eyes, but it doesn’t help. The scenery around me resembles the dream too closely.

Though I’m exhausted, it’s no use trying to get back to sleep. I drag myself off the air mattress and to the creaky spiral staircase. A thermometer strapped to the railing tells me it’s already 88℉. Still, I need a cup of joe.

The makeshift kitchen is dimly lit by the greenish light that filters through the trees. I think of home, of the honest yellow of the sun over the wide open prairie. So different from this dense, dripping jungle. Sometimes I could kick myself for volunteering for this dig. But this is Nguayuna territory, and I couldn’t resist the chance to be the only person with Nguayuna ancestry on the project.

As I’m heating yesterday’s coffee, I hear the metal staircase creaking. My heartbeat accelerates. 

“Hey Jules. It’s us,” a soft voice calls up.

Priya.

“OUCH! Fuck!”

And her husband, Prem.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand and let out a chuckle. They both have very posh accents—it’s hilarious when they curse.

Priya appears on the landing. “Hey,” she says again, kissing my cheek. “Prem broke something already. Do I smell coffee?”

I point to the pot on the two-burner travel stove. “What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but I campaigned hard to get two more people approved so we could join you.” She lowers her voice. “I hated thinking of you here alone with Emmanuel.”

I squeeze her arm. “Thanks—you didn’t have to do that.”

Priya and I set up a dig with Emmanuel a few years ago—he didn’t work well with women, and he got worse when I was promoted, halfway through the dig. We both groaned when we heard he’d been chosen for this project.

“I wanted to be here so we could bludgeon him to death together.”

“Ah, but I already strangled him.”

Priya laughs. Even in baggy camo pants and a white tank top, she is perfection.

Me, I’m still wearing the t-shirt I slept in, and I have dark circles under my eyes.

“Jules? Want to show me around? Prem’s getting the rest of the stuff from the rover.”

“Oh, sure,” I say, feeling ashamed. I’ve known Priya for years, and I thought I was well past any feelings of envy—for her and her wealthy, good-looking husband. “There isn’t much to see. Though I found an interesting bronze spike.”

Priya fills two coffee mugs and we take them downstairs. The metal structure shudders with every step. “Why’d you set up camp on the fire escape?” she asks.

“I know it looks old and rickety, but the metal’s surprisingly sound. I’ve been sleeping at the top—less mosquitoes, and there’s even a hint of a breeze.”

The fire escape was built to surround an ancient temple—almost like an independent scaffolding. While the temple is over 1,700 years old, the fire escape is newer. I think it was constructed by archeologists in the 22nd century, though there’s no record of a dig here.

I show Priya the workroom on level one—open on all sides, and sheltered by a tarp on the floor above. The air is hazy, as though steam were rising from the forest floor. Priya shivers. “This place has a sort of…energy.”

“I know, it’s like one of those dark fairytale forests.”

“Jules!” Prem comes in, holding two big safari packs with one hand. He’s so tall he practically has to bend over to give me a sweaty hug. “Where shall I put the packs?”

“Top level.”

“Righty-o.” He smiles and winks at me before clanging his way up the stairs.

“Um, Jules?” Priya says. “Those marks….”

She puts her hand on my arm, softly fitting her fingers over the pattern of bruises. “Did he…assault you?”

I don’t want to think about Emmanuel. Nightmare images flash before my eyes. Emmanuel, then Priya trapped in vines. Golden beautiful Priya, her full lips turning blue.

“No, no, no,” I whisper. Emmanuel was a predator. He deserved to be punished. But not Priya.

I turn away. “Where’s that spike? I think the inscription’s a magical incantation to the goddess Mulhterra. Yia l’dosa portag…portag…argh, I can’t remember it all and I ’ve probably been mispronouncing it.”

I feel strangely light-headed. I don’t think I know what’s real….

– ∞ –

A scream from above rouses me.

I open my eyes. I’m on all fours, crying, and I don’t know why. I crawl to the stairs. “Prem!” I yell. I heave myself up. “You alright?” No answer.

I stumble up the steps, calling a hasty “Come on!” to Priya over my shoulder.

At the top level I see Prem. He’s bent over, one hand on the railing, dry heaving.

Above him is Emmanuel’s corpse, wrapped in vines, his tongue swollen and blue. The stench is awful. Am I asleep or awake? If my nightmares are coming true, then…

Priya!

I tear back down, taking the stairs two at a time. Priya’s on the floor, wrapped in vines, but she’s alive—she’s panting, trying to catch her breath. There’s someone leaning over her. Someone with a snake-shaped headdress like Mulhterra’s.

The Goddess turns to look at me, and it’s almost like I’m gazing in a mirror. Except for the fact that She emits a greenish glow.

“Leave her alone!” I yell, not knowing whether She’ll understand.

I hear a clanking from the stairs and Prem rushes in.

“No, not you,” Priya murmurs. “Get away.” Suddenly it dawns on me…Priya’s got bruises, too.

I point at Prem, and somehow I remember the incantation. “Yia l’dosa portag tutt filash,” I say.

And the Goddess smiles.